When Privilege Disappears
by The Victoriana
Summary: When the beauty (along with status and wealth) that privileges Mary and enables her to get away with her entitlement, arrogance, and cruelty to others, particularly her sister, disappears, how will others at Downton and beyond treat her? How will she adapt? Will her character at last show growth? Will her relationship with her sister Edith improve?
1. Chapter 1 - Leper

**Note about story: I have followed Downton Abbey for 4 Seasons now. Since the very beginning of the first Season, I have strongly disliked Mary and struggled to tolerate her so I could enjoy the rest of the show and the cast. I loved Sybil, Edith, Anna, Bates, Tom, Carson, Mrs. Hughes, and Violet. Surely I could ignore Mary, who was after all only one character, and focus on the host of other characters who livened the screen and brought me back week after week, year after year? Apparently not, because Mary, with her unbearable arrogance and self-absorption and incessant spiteful jabs towards Edith and other characters I loved, was the obsessive focus of the show (and apparently the writer Fellowes). She was coddled by every other character at Downton from her family to the servants and ridiculously fawned over by every male visitor between the ages of 12 and 60. I couldn't decide which was more nauseating – Mary's character or the way everyone fell over themselves to grovel before her, grant her every selfish whim, and protect her from the consequences of her every thoughtless mistake. (It turned out to be the latter that tipped me over the edge.)**

**In an effort to not let one character, however awful, ruin a show I otherwise loved, I did my best to find some redeeming quality to her, to hope against hope that her character would show the least bit of growth and become less spectacularly insufferable. When she did begin to show a little growth in Season 2, I was relieved, but unfortunately it was only a reprieve and she reverted to the old selfish, insufferable Mary of Season 1 in Season 3. Doggedly optimistic I hoped this was temporary and continued to watch the show, giving her some time when Matthew died for her to grieve, but now after seeing the first episode of Season 5, and how she continued to be a malicious bitch to poor Edith for no reason except spite (not to mention how Edith, one of my favorite characters, has apparently become the whipping boy of this show) I have lost all patience, finally. I am done. Finished. **

**One character has utterly ruined the show for me and caused me immeasurable amounts of frustration and anger in the process. I know I am not the only one for whom Mary has ruined this show and who might be feeling the same emotions. So this piece was written as an exercise to express my frustration and anger at this show and frankly Fellowes for allowing his obsession with one awful unchanging character to take over and ruin the show at the expense of so many exceptional characters and ruin experience of so many fans, including me. So yes, this is in large part a way of releasing those frustrations building for 4+ years and help others who are feeling the same get some satisfaction after so many hours and so much emotional investment wasted. Don't worry, I don't mean to have Mary suffer forever, just for her to go through a major life crisis that changes her outlook and grows her character. Once she grows into a better person and makes amends with her sister Edith, her life will get better. As will Edith's of course. **

"From the very beginning— from the first moment, I may almost say— of my acquaintance with you, your manners, impressing me with the fullest belief of your arrogance, your conceit, and your selfish disdain of the feelings of others, were such as to form the groundwork of disapprobation on which succeeding events have built so immovable a dislike; and I had not known you a month before I felt that you were the last man in the world whom I could ever be prevailed on to marry."  
― Jane Austen, _Pride and Prejudice _

"But when the cloud had withdrawn from over the tent, behold, Miriam was leprous, as white as snow…Aaron said to Moses, 'Oh, my lord, I beg you, do not account this sin to us, in which we have acted foolishly and in which we have sinned. Oh, do not let her be like one dead, whose flesh is half eaten away when he comes from his mother's womb!' Moses cried out to the LORD, saying, 'O God, heal her, I pray!' But the LORD said to Moses, 'If her father had but spit in her face, would she not bear her shame for seven days? Let her be shut up for seven days outside the camp, and afterward she may be received again.' So Miriam was shut up outside the camp for seven days, and the people did not move on until Miriam was received again." – Numbers 12:10-15

Chapter 1 - Leper

"Drat!" Mary sat in front of the mirror as she struggled to put up her hair in the elegant chignon Anna always seemed to manage so effortlessly and cursed as her hair slipped again for the umpteenth time out of the twist she had pinned up. Having been dressed and done up by servants every day of her entire life left her floundering to a distressing degree when she had to fend for herself. It was such a bother having to do without servants. The hotel might have at least provided her with a maid to wait on her, she thought irritably. Dressing and completing her toilette on her own however was the only thing she found tiresome in the whole marvelous week she had just spent with Tony, Lord Gillingham in their amorous clandestine affair away from Downton Abbey. The days they spent exploring the different attractions in London, such as Westminster Abbey and the museums, the evenings they spent at the theatre or dining and talking, and the nights they spent making love back at the hotel.

Tony it turned out was a pleasant companion, especially as he was so eager to please and besotted with her, and their chemistry was not terrible in bed. It was not as good as what she had had with Matthew, but it was still good. Besides she wanted to move on with her life and have a regular partner and lover again, and Tony it seemed was the best option for her. She might even be half in love with him. She'd certainly never met a man more eager to please, and that was saying something considering how nearly every man she'd ever met fell over themselves trying to gain her favor she thought with a wry smile.

As she tilted her chin she noticed a red little bump on the left side of her forehead near her hairline. She rubbed at it annoyed that it marred her otherwise pristine complexion. Probably a boil or something, though she never got things like those. She'd never even suffered from acne during her teen years, unlike Edith who had looked quite a fright back then-something teen-aged Mary had never lost an opportunity to torment her over. She'd been an easy target - still was as a matter of fact with her long plain face and pasty complexion, which was surely matched only by her pathetic self-pitying disposition, Mary thought disdainfully.

She arranged her hair to cover the slight blemish just as Tony knocked an entered, ready to take her out to dinner on their last night together.

As they dined and talked, Tony suddenly said, "I say Mary, I don't mean to be impolite or anything, but did you hit your head or something?" He gestured toward the left side of her face.

"No. What makes you think that?" Mary asked, confused.

"There's a reddish bump on your forehead. On the left there," he pointed.

She raised her hand and to her horror discovered that there was indeed a medium-sized raised lump there. Surely it couldn't be that tiny bump she'd noticed several hours earlier?

"Excuse me," she said, "I need to use the ladies' room," she said and rushed off. In the ladies' room she stared in consternation at the red bump about the size of a small walnut on the left side of her forehead extending out from her hairline. When she rubbed at it, it felt sore and tender to the touch. Surely it couldn't have grown to this size from the small bump she'd noticed only a few hours ago. Was she coming down with something? She hadn't hit her head, she was sure of that, so what else could it be?

She didn't want to alarm Tony however so when she returned she said, "I must have hit my head on the headboard when I was sleeping. I'm sure it's nothing to worry about." She smiled faintly. "I think we should go back to the hotel though. I'm feeling rather tired and I'll need to drive back to Yorkshire tomorrow morning."

Back at the hotel, she applied cream after scrubbing her face with soap before going to bed. She hoped the swelling would go down overnight. Tony did not join her that night, which she was half relieved and half disappointed by.

But the next day she found herself staring in renewed shock and horror at two additional red rashes that had appeared, one along her right cheek and the other under her left chin. In addition her skin around the bumps felt numb when she poked at them.

When Tony knocked on her door to take her down to breakfast, she was tempted to tell him she was ill and didn't want to be disturbed and hide out in her room for the entire day. But if she was ill, it was best she be treated right away before it became worse.

When Tony saw her face he cringed before he was able to get over his initial shock, and his reaction sent a sharp pang through Mary. Men had never looked at her with anything less than admiration before.

"You must be ill. I'll send for a doctor at once. You must lie down," Tony said.

Other than her facial disfigurement and the accompanying numbness, she did not actually feel ill and she did not have a fever, but she obediently slipped under the covers and laid back, not having the strength or will to argue.

Tony couldn't seem to look at her, and Mary had to clench her fists to keep from snatching the nearby pillow to cover her face and hide it. Only pride kept her from doing so. But still, did he have to be so cold and aloof? What had happened to the pleasant intimacy she thought they'd established over the past week?

He turned away saying that he would call up a doctor and be back to check on her and left, leaving Mary to brood over her condition and imagine the worst possible scenarios. He didn't return until several hours later with the doctor.

The doctor asked her several questions about her symptoms, her medical history, what she had eaten, who she had been in contact with, and if she had been in any accidents in the recent past. He took her temperature (which was normal) and checked her pulse and reflexes. He poked and prodded the sores, to Mary's slight irritation, and noted the numbness around them.

After several minutes of taking notes and seeming to deliberate, he turned to Mary gravely and said, "I'm very sorry to brake this news, but from my evaluation of your symptoms and history, I think you may have leprosy."

For what seemed like minutes, Mary stared, unable to process what the doctor had just said. She heard as if from a distance Tony exclaiming in horror and asking the doctor if he was certain, surely there must be some mistake? She felt as if the blood had drained from her face and the entire world spun. Leprosy? Ghastly images from newspaper clips she had seen of people with horrific facial scars and disfigurement, webbed and scaly hands and feet, and hunched bodies passed through her mind one after the other in nightmarish succession. Stories she'd read from history books and articles of lepers throughout history being reviled and shunned for their appearance by their neighbors, family, and communities, isolated and quarantined in leper colonies, and reduced to begging for pennies flashed through her memory.

When she came across such stories, she'd always shivered and thanked her stars she'd been blessed with both great beauty and great wealth and status. They would always keep her safe, untouchable. Until now.

"Of course I do not know for certain," the doctor was saying, "I will need to take samples from your blood and mucus and study them under the microscope before I can say with one-hundred percent certainty. But I have seen countless cases of leprosy before and your facial bumps and sores look very much like them. I also have eliminated most other possible diseases from your lack of other relevant symptoms."

Her voice sounded scratchy, as if she hadn't used it for weeks, when she asked, "How did I get it? I don't understand. The only person I've been with recently is Lord Gillingham here and my family who are all perfectly healthy."

"Most people do not exhibit symptoms even if they carry the bacterium, _Mycobacterium leprae_," the doctor explained. "It is thought to have to do with genetics. Also, it usually takes years for symptoms to manifest in those who do develop the disease. I have heard of people manifesting the disease as many as ten to twenty years after they were thought to have been exposed and infected. It is likely you picked up the bacterium more than five years ago at least, possibly even from someone who may not have exhibited visible symptoms."

Mary's head reeled. Five years, even ten or twenty? Like anyone else, she'd been in casual contact with countless people in day to day life over the years. It could have been anyone, anytime. A servant, a visitor, maybe a soldier patient she'd come into contact with and looked after at Downton Abbey or the hospital during the Great War years who'd in turn picked it up from some foreign country he'd fought in. Perhaps even that Turkish ambassador she'd slept with a dozen years ago and who had mysteriously died in her bed. She suppressed the urge to laugh hysterically. If she started, she feared she would never stop.

"Is there any cure? Anything, any treatment. Money is no object." She had to keep herself from begging, just give me anything, anything to stop this nightmare now.

The doctor looked at her with pity, a look she had seen directed at others, had even directed at others herself, but had never, ever seen directed at her. "No there is no cure. Nothing at least that can reverse your symptoms. It may be possible however to slow the progression of your disease by good diet and exercise."

The next several hours seemed to pass by in a blur. The doctor took a sample of her blood and her mucus (he said the bacteria was most commonly found there) and studied them under a microscope. Then he came back to her to confirm that he had found the leprosy-causing bacteria in the samples and that she did, in fact, have leprosy as he had suspected, destroying her last lingering hope that it was somehow all a mistake.

Tony dropped by now and again in her room to ask her if she needed anything, but looking very strange and awkward. Mary lay there woodenly, declining help, not interested in speaking to anyone. She seemed to be in a daze, a sort of waking nightmare she couldn't wake up from.

At the end of the day, after the doctor had packed up his equipment and left after telling them to call if anything got worse, Tony came back to her room and said he would take her back to Downton Abbey the next morning. She would feel better when she was back home and with family he said awkwardly in an attempt to comfort her.

Mary didn't want to go home. She dreaded the reactions of her family and the staff at Downton Abbey. Her parents at least she knew would be supportive after they got over their initial shock. They loved and cared about her and would surely help her find better treatment. There must be something, somewhere that would help. They were obscenely wealthy and nothing was impossible for people who had enough money and status, was it?

Even so, she knew there would be dreadful gossip, among the staff and in the village and eventually the entire country. The Earl of Grantham's daughter a leper. What horror!

She shrank from facing those reactions, of having to hide her face until she found some cure that got rid of the ghastly bumps and sores disfiguring her face and restored her vaunted beauty.


	2. Chapter 2 - Facing Downton Abbey

Chapter 2 – Facing Downton Abbey

Mary approached the mirror with trepidation the next morning, hoping against hope that the bumps and sores she had seen the previous day had disappeared. Instead she was faced with the same horrendous sores discoloring her face, only worse, for a couple of them had grown in size and started to scab over and two additional bumps had appeared, making her face a jumble of ugly red spots and lumps. She let out a sharp cry of despair and frustration. How could she ever face anyone ever again?

Tony's reaction when he came to escort her out of the hotel didn't help any. Though scrupulously polite, he conspicuously avoided touching her or even looking at her, as if even looking at her would infect him with her contagion.

As she descended with him and made her way into the lobby, and as Tony returned their keys and settled the bill with the concierge, though she tried to keep her head low and tucked in to avoid attracting attention, she saw people stop and stare and then gawk and whisper.

A maid with a bucket mopping the floor stopped and gaped at her until one of the managers snapped at her to get back to work. A lady with two small children clinging to her skirts moved further away from her in revulsion, clutching her children even closer to her. A couple of young men nattering on about the latest cricket match fell silent in shock when they saw her face as she passed by until one of them made what sounded like a crack about bedding women with nice bodies but ghastly faces and the other snickered.

Mary felt her face heat so red hot she felt as if it were truly on fire (which she half though might have been a blessing if it had caught fire and burned out at that point) no doubt making her face appear even more mottled and ugly. She so badly wanted a hole in the floor to open up and just swallow her. She was so lost in her self-mortification that she didn't hear until Tony had called her name three times to urge her to come along from where she was rooted to the floor now that he had finished checking them out.

How could she escape such stares and scrutiny wherever she went? It was unbearable, she couldn't go through life like this. Mary felt herself on the verge of panic.

"Tony, Tony, stop," she begged rushing to catch up with him just as he was about to exit the hotel. "Before we go I want to stop by a shop and buy a veil. I can't face Downton like this."

Tony agreed to show her to a nearby shop, where she made her purchase, trying to ignore the shopkeeper's pitying stare, and slid a black hat and thick veil down gratefully hiding her face.

Mary had come up from Downton alone and met Tony at the hotel so as not to arouse suspicion that she was spending the week alone with a man, but Tony, looking awkward again, suggested that he come back with her since she was ill.

Mary vehemently objected to this. Bad enough that she would have to deal with questions and scrutiny over her illness, she didn't want to lose her reputation too by openly being seen coming home with a man. So Tony helped her call a cab and she was once more on the way back home to Downton, dreading what was ahead.

As the cab pulled up the drive to the front of the estate, she saw her mother, Carson, Anna, and the footman Jimmy waiting outside to welcome her and help her take her luggage in. Mamma's familiar presence as well as that of Carson and Anna helped settle her nerves as Jimmy opened the door and helped her out.

"Darling!" cried Lady Grantham as she hurried up to her daughter and held her face, trying to peer through the veil. "Whatever is the matter? Why are you wearing this ridiculous getup?"

"Shush, mamma," Mary said, "please not now. I'll tell you inside. Later."

Ignoring Cora's exasperated "Mary!" she hurried past her mother toward the entrance.

If Carson was surprised to see Mary with her face shrouded in a dark veil, like a good butler he did a good job of hiding it, giving his customary, "Welcome back, my lady." After taking her coat off, he asked, "May I take your hat, my lady?"

"No, not now, Carson," said Mary. Carson blinked, then said in the same tone, "very good, my lady," as he held the door open.

Anna started a little and looked at her uncertainly, but recovered herself and gave her a welcoming smile as she and Jimmy, following along behind with Mary's suitcases, followed Mary to her quarters. On the way Ivy, polishing the stairwell, stopped and stared at Mary's strange appearance, but Mary continued past ignoring it. Things could have been a lot worse, if she hadn't worn a veil. Of course she'd still have to face the music very soon, but she tried to avoid thinking about that.

In her room Anna directed Jimmy where to lay the suitcases and started unpacking them. Mary removed her gloves and sat down with her hat and veil still on. Anna kept looking back at her curiously in the midst of her unpacking. "Aren't you going to take your hat off, m'lady?" she finally asked.

Mary clutched her hands together, "No, not yet."

Anna came closer, looking at her in concern, "Is something wrong, m'lady?"

"No, nothing's wrong," said Mary, her fingers tightening on each other further.

"You're sure? You don't seem yourself," Anna came closer.

"I said nothing's wrong," snapped Mary. "Just get back to your work, would you and mind your own business."

Anna's eyes widened. Then she turned away and went back to work. The silence was uncomfortable. Mary wasn't always polite and considerate to the servants-in fact she was frequently the opposite-but she and Anna had usually had a good rapport, if only because Anna was always so good-natured and patient with Mary's moods and sulks.

Mary's mother and father, Tom and Edith would be downstairs, as well as any number of the servants. She didn't want to go down and face them. Mary got up and laid herself down on the bed. While Anna's back was turned as she arranged clothes in the wardrobe, Mary quickly removed her hat and veil, tossed it on the bedside chair and grabbed a pillow to cover her face.

When Anna turned around, she asked startled, "My lady, are you ill?"

"I've got a headache," mumbled Mary, her face still hid by the pillow. "If Mamma or Papa asks, tell them that."

"Yes, m'lady. But are you not coming down to dinner then? It's in little more than an hour. The Dowager Lady Grantham is also coming."

Granny was coming too? The idea of facing her entire family as well as the servants as they stared at her ruined face throughout dinner turned Mary's stomach. She'd have to face them at some point, but not like that. And there was no way she could wear the veil to dinner without having to answer their questions and give them the truth. She just wasn't ready yet.

"No, I can't come. Tell Mamma I have a terrible headache and am too indisposed. Just have something brought up here."

"Alright. I hope you feel better soon, m'lady. Just ring if you need anything," said Anna kindly as she left, as if Mary's earlier rudeness to her had never taken place. That was just how Anna was, bless her.

Left alone again to brood, Mary wondered how long she could hide her condition from everyone. Tonight she could get away with. Tomorrow? She didn't see how unless she pretended to be ill and lie in bed all day the next day too. And the next? Mary felt time closing in on her. She felt more scared and alone than she ever had in her life.


	3. Chapter 3 - A Mother's Love

**Note: Sorry it's been so long since an update/new chapters, I've been dealing with illness and a tough semester, but here are two new chapters. I promise I'll get the next update much sooner.**

Chapter 3 – A Mother's Love

A knock sounded at the door several hours later.

"Just set the tray inside, Anna," called Mary, assuming it was Anna come to bring her dinner as she re-covered her head with the pillow.

Someone entered and switched on the lights. Then to Mary's dismay, her mother's voice sounded instead of Anna's. "I came to check on you. You barely said a word to me when you came in. What is it darling, are you ill?" Mary shrank back as Cora sat down on the bed beside her and reached for her hand.

"I just have a horrible headache, mamma."

Cora made sympathetic sound and tried to smooth her hair back above the pillow, but Mary quickly turned to the other side. "Shall I get you some headache powder?"

"No, please, just leave me be tonight," Mary pleaded.

There was a moment of silence. Then, "something else is troubling you tonight, I can sense it. What happened on your sketching trip? Did someone say anything to you?" Cora asked sharply. Cora had always paid far closer attention to her eldest than to either of her other daughters, so she could often sense Mary's moods even while frequently remaining oblivious to those of her younger children. It was as if, having focused nearly all her maternal sight on one offspring, she had so little focus to spare on the others that it left a blind spot a mile wide and twice as thick.

"Nothing's wrong. The trip went smoothly." Mary said trying to hide her impatience. While she usually basked in her parents' focus on her over her sisters, tonight was not a night she appreciated that.

"Why were you wearing that dark horrid veil? You're not trying to go back into mourning for Michael now are you after all these months?" Cora held up the veil Mary had discarded with two fingers distastefully, wrinkling her nose.

Mary moaned "just go away, mamma." She'd hoped for a reprieve for at least one night, but apparently her nosy mother wouldn't even allow her that much.

But maybe, she thought suddenly, it was better to get it over with and share her condition with her mother first before having to reveal herself to those less close and sympathetic. Her mother could give her support and advice and help her face everyone else on the morrow. The horrified reactions of the hotel staff and guests in London still haunted her and she saw those same faces and reactions painted on the staff of Downton in her mind's eye. Mamma could shield her from the worst of that.

"Mamma," she said quietly, still turned away, "would you still support me if something happened to me. If I was no longer popular or-or beautiful."

Cora huffed a laugh "what are you talking about? Of course you're beautiful. The beauty of ten counties. My prettiest daughter," she said, stroking Mary's hand fondly. "Even when you were little, I knew you would be a great beauty with your dark eyes and fair porcelain skin. And your first Season, you took London by storm and men fell over themselves to gain an introduction to you. How they pestered Papa and me. I was so proud." Mary could hear the smile in her mother's voice as she reminisced.

Mary swallowed. Another time she might have preened beneath her mother's praise, but now it hardly made things easier. "But if I had not been so beautiful, or even pretty. Would-would you still…still have loved me like you do now?" She hadn't meant to blurt out that last part, but it seemed to erupt as if a bottle had been uncorked in some place deep inside her.

"Of course I would love you. I love all my daughters," Cora said lightly. "Now tell me, what has brought on these ridiculous questions and this strange mood of yours?" Her mother might declare she loved all her daughters, and it was probably true. She had loved Sybil without doubt and was even fond of Edith in her own careless, negligent way. But not even she could pretend that she hadn't always loved her eldest and most beautiful daughter abundantly more and had never made the slightest effort to hide it.

Mary suddenly remembered Edith, a little girl of seven, tearing up as her mother picked nine-year-old Mary up, swung her around and carried her out to take her out for a drive for the third time that week, while she always left Edith alone in the nursery, only briefly even acknowledging her. Sybil, who even at three remained irrepressibly cheerful, merely giggled and waved, unperturbed at their mother's favoritism. "Mothers shouldn't have favorites," Edith had whispered, her voice and face layered with a kind of pain that seemed beyond her years. Only Mary had heard her. She'd felt an unusual shot of sympathy flood her veins, which she had quickly suppressed. If she was mamma's favorite, it was only because she was well behaved and vastly prettier, while Edith was sullen and plain, little Mary had thought uncharitably, tightening her arms around her mother's neck. Besides, Mary hated to share and her mother's time and attention were the things she least liked to share with her sisters. Adult Mary was reminded of that moment now suddenly as she struggled to form into words what she must now confess about the disease which had wrecked her beauty. Even if it was only temporary, until they found a cure (which Mary still had no doubt they would find soon with their money and position), it would still be a shock to poor mamma.

"Why won't you look at me, Mary?" Cora wouldn't desist.

"My face is ruined, mamma," Mary finally turned around to face her mother and removed the pillow. "I saw a doctor in London who said I have leprosy."

Cora stared in horrified disbelief at her daughter's ravaged face.

"Oh my god. Oh my god." Cora brought a shaking hand to her mouth.

Something painful twisted inside Mary. She'd expected her mother's reaction to be bad, but this was beyond even what she'd imagined. Cora looked as if she were about to faint. Anger welled from a deep pool of hurt. If this was the reaction of her own mother, how could she hope to see better from anyone else? She might have a bunch of spots on her face, Mary thought indignantly, but she hadn't sprouted two heads and devil's horns. "Well, is that all you're going to say?" she finally snapped.

"What-what did you say the doctor said you had?" Cora stammered out at last in a horrified whisper.

"Leprosy."

This time, Cora turned such a frightening cast of white, that Mary thought her mother really was going to faint.

"No, no, it can't be. There's some mistake. Perhaps it's just a bout of measles," Cora muttered, half speaking to herself.

"It's not. The London doctor took samples from my blood and mucus and found the leprosy-causing bacteria in it. We can have it rechecked by another doctor, but it's almost certainly leprosy." Mary explained the details of the examination.

"But you haven't been in contact with any lepers!" Cora cried out, her voice close to sounding hysterical.

"I know, that's what I said at first. But the doctor said that most people carrying the bacterium don't exhibit symptoms of the disease. It apparently has to do with genetics. And it usually takes years and years, as many as ten or twenty, for the symptoms to manifest even in those who do develop the disease. I could have picked it up from anyone, anywhere in the last decade or two. It's impossible to track down."

Throughout Mary's explanation Cora kept shaking her head in disbelief and muttering under her breath.

"We'll get a doctor, a specialist. London quacks don't know a thing. No Crawley has ever been a leper. Genetics, ha! What is the man talking about? Our line has always been healthy."

Well, it could have been worse, Mary reflected, though the horror-tinged looks her mother kept darting her way when she thought Mary wasn't looking still sent stabs of pain through her.

Mary had begged her mother to keep the news to herself for the night. Cora had wanted to tell her husband, but Mary had gotten her to agree to let her break the news to the family in the morning. She was exhausted and couldn't deal with any more horrified reactions for the rest of the night at least. In truth, she would have liked to hide away and keep anyone else from finding out until the disease was cured and her face was back to its former beauty, but she knew that was neither possible nor practical. If nothing else, her family and the staff would find out when the doctors came. But for one last night, she would have peace, she thought, as she fell into a restless sleep plagued by visions of her family's faces contorted by horror and revulsion at her visage.


	4. Chapter 4 - Revealed

Chapter 4 – Revealed

Mary awoke to the sound of Anna's cry of surprise. The pillow she'd used to cover her face the night before had shifted and she found her lady's maid looking down at her uncovered face in consternation and concern.

"M'lady, what's happened?" Anna exclaimed.

Mary shook the vestiges of sleep from her mind and sighed. Here it began.

"I found out I have leprosy while I was away, Anna. Mamma knows but I'm only going to tell the rest of the family at breakfast, so keep it to yourself until then, alright?"

Anna's kindly face crinkled in concern and sympathy. "Of course, my lady. I won't tell a soul. I'm so sorry."

After Anna had helped Mary dress and arranged her hair and left, Mary recovered her head with the hat and veil she'd worn last night. She didn't want any staff who might be lingering about to see her before she'd revealed her condition to her family. A valid precaution it turned out as one of the housemaids passing by her in the hall stared curiously after her covered face as Mary made her way to the breakfast room.

Cora saw her first as she entered the breakfast room, where everyone else was already seated.

"Carson, step out for a moment, would you," she said to the butler, who bowed and left. The only ones left besides Mary were Robert, Cora, Edith, and Tom. Her family.

"What's going on, Cora? Why is Mary dressed like that?" Robert said frowning and gesturing at Mary's veiled face.

Cora hushed him and turned to the others. "Mary and I have something to tell you. Do you want to tell them, darling, or should I?"

"You say it," said Mary shortly. She was still smarting from revealing herself to Cora last night and being looked at in horror by her own mother.

"While Mary was on her sketching trip, she found out she has leprosy from a doctor in London."

"She has what?" Robert said. Everyone else looked confused, as if they hadn't quite heard or understood what Cora had said.

"Leprosy. She has leprosy." Cora repeated.

When everyone still stared, uncomprehending, Mary tore off her veil. Best to get it over with.

Edith gasped, Tom's eyes widened, and Robert choked on his glass of water.

"I started to find these spots on my face, and felt numb there, so I saw a London doctor. He took my samples and said I have leprosy."

Robert stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. His face wasn't as horrified as her mother's had been but it wasn't pleasant being scrutinized like that. She felt everyone's gaze bore into her, making her feel as if she were being dissected under a microscope, all her flaws being catalogued and picked apart. She longed to put her veil back on, but pride stayed her hand. "But what-how? Where could you have caught this disease?" Robert finally sputtered, turning red.

"I have no idea. It might have been years ago. The doctor said that most people don't exhibit symptoms even if they carry the bacterium. It's thought to have to do with genetics he said. It usually takes years for symptoms to manifest in those who do develop the disease, as many as ten or twenty years. I could have caught it from anyone over the past five to twenty years. A servant, a visitor, maybe even a soldier from the War years, who knows?"

"Is it contagious?" asked Edith. She looked nearly as disturbed as Robert and had unconsciously lifted a hand to her cheek, as if shielding it from the infection that ravaged her sister's. Well, with her at least, Mary couldn't blame her for thinking first of herself. There was no love lost between them, and had their situations been reversed, she would have acted the same—or probably worse.

"Well, at this point, probably not. I've been living with you all my whole life, and if I was infected years ago, it's probably too late anyway. Not that it would make much of a difference with you." Mary noted with satisfaction Edith's flinch at that dig. As usual everyone ignored it, their focus on Mary.

"We'll hire the best specialists in the country to look at you, darling, don't worry, won't we Robert? The London quack who saw Mary said there is no cure, but he has to be wrong. Maybe for the average commoner there is no cure, at least none they can afford, but you're an earl. We'll get her better in no time." Cora chattered on, filling the silence. Robert, still looking like he'd just been told France had taken over England, nodded abstractedly, glancing at his daughter every now and again as if to check if she'd change back to her ordinary appearance.

"How are we going to tell the staff?" Tom finally cut in. He'd been silent until now, but he'd caught her eye once or twice with sympathy and commiseration.

Robert flinched, "do we need to tell them anything?"

"Of course we need to, Robert. Mary can't keep hidden in her room or walk around the house with that veil on her head all the time. Even if she did things would only get worse because rumor would spread like wildfire through the household and the county. We'll have to tell them she has leprosy and that we are bringing specialists over to see her who will cure her, but order them to not spread gossip. It's only temporary. Once we find the right doctor and right treatment, she'll be as lovely as before. Why, she'll be back to her former beauty by the end of the month I don't doubt, and this episode will be no more than a horrid but brief memory."

The smile Cora flashed her way at this juncture was meant to be encouraging, but it only lowered Mary's spirits further. Was her "beauty" all her mother cared about? What about her health, her well-being? Her mother had mentioned not a word about those.

When she tuned back in, Robert was talking about calling in one of the physicians who treated the royal family and then arguing with Cora about letting Dr. Clarkson see her first in the meantime. Robert was saying it was a waste of time since Dr. Clarkson was only a general, average country doctor, and his lack of knowledge about treatments for her condition would only disappoint her like the London one had, while Cora was insisting that country doctor or not, if he had listened to Clarkson about Sybil during her delivery rather than that useless so-called specialist, Sybil's life would have been saved. The man knew what he was doing and he might be able to help. Or was he going to let another of his daughters' life be ruined through his stubbornness? (Did her mother have to compare Sybil's death with her face being ruined, Mary thought bitterly). As the argument escalated, Edith and Tom excused themselves, Tom giving her a reassuring pat on her shoulder on his way out.

"Enough," Mary finally shouted. "I'm not having you arguing over me like I'm a child. There's no harm in seeing Dr. Clarkson-he helped Matthew after all recover from his War injuries-so I'll see him first. Even if he can't help, he can give referrals from his own networks to other specialists who might be able to. But right now, we need to tell the staff. Call Carson. I want to get it over with."

Robert rang the bell and Carson arrived within moments. "My lord?"

"Carson, we have something to tell you and the staff regarding Lady Mary." Robert gestured to her, and Carson's eyes landed on Mary. For the first time in a long while, perhaps since Matthew's death, Mary saw the usually imperturbable butler loose his composure as he took in her ruined face. "M-my lady!" he exclaimed, his face wreathed in dismay and concern.

"I'm alright, Carson." Mary said, drawing closer, "It's just I-I have leprosy."

"Oh my lady. I'm so sorry." Yet rather than the pity and poorly disguised revulsion her mother, and even her father had directed at her upon learning the truth, Carson's old lined face expressed nothing but kindness and sympathy. For the first time since she had learned of her diagnosis, she felt tears prick her eyes under Carson's kind and concerned gaze.

"We want you to break this to the rest of this staff respectfully, but forbid gossip or negative talk about Lady Mary's condition. We are calling the best doctors and we will find a cure for her, so this is only temporary, but I do not want her reputation besmirched by any malicious rumors or gossip about this. Limit spreading the news as much as you can outside the household."

"Of course, my lord," said Carson with a fierce gleam in his eyes, "I'll protect her reputation as if she were my own…" he caught himself at Robert's frown, but Mary knew he'd been about to say "as if she were my own daughter" and it warmed her bruised heart just a little bit. "Beg pardon, what I mean to say is if I catch any of the staff gossiping about Lady Mary, they shall face the consequences." And his ultimate wrath by the looks of it.

As her heart warmed again with his loyalty, she wondered what she had done to deserve it. She hadn't always treated him kindly, and had often been cold or cruel to him, like that time he'd hesitated over leaving her father's employment for hers and Sir Richard's when she was engaged to that horrid man and she'd hurt him with her cruel words about his loyalty, or when he'd come to beg her to come back to the living and look after her son after months of shutting herself up mourning Matthew and she'd pulled rank and snubbed him. Whatever the reason, she was grateful for it, and she promised herself she would be kinder and more thoughtful toward him in the future. His reaction and his support had warmed her far more than that of her own flesh and blood, something she hadn't expected as the eldest and favored daughter of the family.


	5. Chapter 5

**To those of you who have left encoragement or constructive criticism in the reviews, thank you, I appreciate it. I welcome constructive criticism of my writing and stories as always, but please keep comments/reviews confined to the story/writing, no personal comments about me please. I think that's fair. I know Mary is a popular character and that this story is not going to appeal to everyone. That's why I stated clearly in the description and the notes what this story is going to be about. If you love Mary and think she's perfect or great as is, this story may not be your cup of tea and you may want to skip it. As someone who was bullied for years in school, I (and many others I know) find Mary to be very much a bully, with her constant negative putdowns of Edith, especially since Edith doesn't fight back anymore or have anyone on her side to stand up for her because all their parents' focus is on Mary. By this age Mary should know better. Everyone has fictional characters they like and dislike and that grate on them for various reasons, that doesn't make them "judgemental". In fact it's much more rude and judgemental to make personal comments on actual real people via reviews, so again refrain from that please and keep commentary/criticisms to the story or writing. Thank you. The next two chapters will be coming soon. **


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